


Itchy

by glassgoblin



Series: Random Rogues [57]
Category: Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-04
Updated: 2015-02-04
Packaged: 2018-03-10 12:07:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3289775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glassgoblin/pseuds/glassgoblin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wes gets mail from home.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Itchy

Being in the Rebellion was not like being away at summer camp, even if his mother seemed to pretend that was where he was most of the time she sent him messages and care packages. There were drop off spots located around the galaxy for mail and personal items to be sent to people within the Rebellion, anonymous locations that the more mobile Rebels could get to and check occasionally. If something was dropped off with an identification number it would eventually be routed to that person, or sent back if the number was listed as inactive. Inactive meant dead, occasionally it had meant captured but that usually meant dead too.

One of the packages brought back from a run happened to be for him this time, and Wes found it on his bunk after he returned from the Sims they had been running. It wasn’t a huge package, but big enough to make him hope that it contained some kind of food in a freshness seal, and maybe the gloves his mother had told him she was working on in the last message he had gotten. Hobbie was the only one there when he ripped open the tabs to get the whole case open, and his friend laughed at his enthusiasm.

Wes was a little excited, and he laughed also when he saw what was inside. The gloves, and a matching scarf made from an itchy woolen blend, which was then boiled until it softened and could absorb and reflect body heat for the wearer. It would have been the perfect thing on Hoth, as far as Wes was concerned, but he wasn’t about to go back and try it out there. There was a package of dried fruit, a fresh-sealed package of cookies, and even a small jar of the tart fruit spread his grandmother made for the family every fall. Wrapped around everything, as though it were a protective sheet, was a small quilted throw and he recognized it as one of his aunt’s favorite patterns.

“Well, I guess someone loves you.”   Hobbie came closer to see what Wes had gotten.

“Don’t be jealous, you know I’ll share the food.” Wes slid a hand around the inside of the case, feeling for a flimsy or datapad; something that might have a letter, and found the flimsy on the very bottom. A letter from his family. He tucked it away again, intending to read it when he had more privacy. He didn’t like being so open about his family. Part of that was because he missed them, and part of it was because most of his friends didn’t have family and it felt wrong, as though he were rubbing salt into their wounds by being happy to hear from his parents.

He slid the scarf through his fingers, appreciating the dark blue color, “Have you ever had something like this? Softer than a newborn kit.” He held it up, looking at Hobbie until the other man touched the scarf.

“Absolutely.” Hobbie shook his head, “Come on, we’ve got to get back for the briefing or Wedge will wrap that around your head and use it as a gag.”


End file.
